He stole from the room, prowling down the stairs like he was gumshoeing, and made his way to the kitchen. Mona had left a pot of coffee on the stove a...d the Cincinnati Enquirer on the table. The smell of apple butter and maple syrup lingered in the air. Sitting at the kitchen table with his belly full of vittles, sipping fresh java and pedaling through a morning newspaper, worked on a man’s sense of belonging. Careful Gafferson, Moe thought, wincing and glancing back up to the china in the. My two fingers now soaked in my juices, the body butter that still coats them has been rendered redundant. I keep my hand still and tilt my hips up slightly. Oh, yes… I feel my fingers move deeper inside me, delving deeper and deeper as I continue thrusting up against my hand. I bite down on my bottom lip, my breathing become shallow again as the primal rhythm of my hips thrusting triggers a form of pleasure deep inside me. I feel it radiate through me, glowing brighter as my hips thrust. More

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